


A Hope In Stupor

by hobbly_wobbs



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dreamscapes, Gen, Noodle Dragons, jealous hanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 01:24:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15920079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbly_wobbs/pseuds/hobbly_wobbs
Summary: Jesse wakes up in a surreal forest, where he encounters... dragons, an archer, and a cute girl?!He must be dreaming.





	A Hope In Stupor

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!! I've had a falling-out with this fandom as of late, but I've had this work in my files for a long ass time. So. I decided to share it on here! With you guys!! :D Please be kind, as it is my first fanfic I have ever written uwu This is supposed to be McHanzo, but I'm not all that great with smut or even fluff :((( 
> 
> Sidenote: This was originally an English I assignment, which I got a 100% on :)))
> 
> I will most probably NOT be continuing this story, as I have other things to attend to, but I may or may not change my mind in the future. WhO kNoWs owO
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy!

     A fleeting sensation of anticipation flooded a forgotten land, one presumed to be consigned to oblivion. The sensation spun itself like a spider’s web around the expanse of a forest and grasped everything in its path, filling the area with unimaginable feelings. Feelings that tasted of sandalwood and pine; concoctions wafting of sage and earthy musk.  
     It left, just as diligently as it had arrived. The forest held its breath, in awe of its most recent occurrence. A silence ensued in the land.  
     A habitually vibrant sun was hidden behind the bleak, charcoal-grey clouds. The sadistic water-borne beings relayed an unforeseen message, one of the impending arrival of a heavy storm. Its adamant rays peeked through cracks and crevices in the dismal overcast, yearning to bathe the land with their warm glow.  
Skinny droplets of rainwater, substantial in their quantity, plunged into the crowded vicinity of flowering plants and elephantine trees of differing types. Singing, gentle winds were cast unto vegetation. They sang a song of mourning. The rustling of leaves, along with the light pitter patter of the falling precipitation hitting equal parts ground and shrubbery, filled the vicinity with an audible yet welcoming and familiar hum. The quiet chatter of birds and buzzing of insects filled the air, becoming a much-needed harmony for the sorrowful orchestral choir of the dampened forest. The dense terrain was gifted a feeling of beautiful serenity. The skies grieved.  
     A common feature of the place, bamboo was widespread. The perennial plants stood tall, elegant in their beauty. Nonchalant clanks of their trunks echoed in the filling void. Wild orchids, poinsettias, bromeliads and countless other rainforest flowers decorated the expanse with dazzling beauty, their vivid colors washing the landscape in enchanting hues. Ferns and vines adorned the ground and trees in delightful shades of green, their hungry limbs reaching for the lost radiance of the warm sun. Most, if not all, of the plant life was intricately embroidered with varying degrees of bioluminescence. A mystical, and rather delightful, appearance of the plant life contrasted heavily with that of the atmosphere.  
     A boy, nearing the age of adulthood, lay in the caress of a large fluorescent plant, somewhere in the midst of the vivacious jungle area. The neon vibrance radiating off of the plant’s broad leaves reflected onto the juvenile male’s near-sculpted and sun-kissed cheek. Though his bodily traits were all but an eyesore, his clothes were haggardly--perhaps once seen as stylish. His feet lay bare and grimy. His blue jeans snugly hugged his lanky legs, tattered at the ankles. A plaid button-down shirt covered his torso, its former crimson checkered exuberance now dull. His ear-length chestnut hair was sprinkled with the rainwater that poured from the sky, its soft texture soon becoming damp. Yet, he lay in dormant beauty; a lovely addition to the surreal forest.  
     The impromptu precipitation daintily stirred the unconscious boy. Roused from his slumber, he mumbled a string of incoherent words before opening his rheum-encrusted eyes. The boy lifted his stiff arms, not unlike logs, to rub at his peepers. He felt uncomfortable; his eyelids palpated in obvious discomfort after his marginally calloused hands had left them forlorn. A migraine was near prominent--if not already occurring--for the pitiable teen. The thought of sitting up seemed suicidal in the boy’s thoughts, so he lay for a few short minutes as his hazy mind cleared, all whilst looking up at the slate-hued, crying sky. A soft frown played on his chapped lips.  
     Wiping Adam’s ale from his knit brow, the young male gathered enough of his drained energy to nimbly rest on his elbows, a survey of what lay before him followed a deep groan. His previous memories fled him as he stared at the green shrubbery, barely conjuring up his own identity. Annoyed by his lack of remembrance, he painfully sprung up onto his bottom. His dark eyes flew wide open in horror. Seemingly forgetting about his earlier ill state, he silently inquired to himself on his whereabouts. _Where am I?_  
     Small puffs of warm breath left the boy’s mouth in rapid succession as he shakily stood on his tired and muddied feet. Placing a few cautious, admittingly wobbly, steps forward, he frantically turned his head in all directions, regarding the expanse of the charismatic woodland.  
     Alas, the boy seemed to fall short of a happy attitude, instead deciding to blaspheme his existence. Cursing under his breath, he miserably decided to venture in search of shelter.

  
     After what seemed to the boy hours of treacherous trekking, stumbling upon he appeared before a small clearing. The sky there was tinted a friendlier color. The irksome sprinkle of the timberland then was a thing of the past. A most whimsical thing caught the adolescent’s eye, a sparkling blue mist that appeared to hold an otherworldly aura, located at the other end of the clearing. He couldn’t help but be enticed, and promptly found himself following the supernatural cloud across the strikingly brilliant meadow.  
     Upon closer inspection, the mist held within it what was, suggestively, miniature lightning bolts. They shimmered inside the cloud, crackling in compliance to a rhythm unbeknownst to him or this world. The boy wanted to prod at it, foolishly outstretching his hand only to have the azure mist steer away from his touch. Puzzled, the boy traveled along, the radiating cloud leading him on an anonymous path.  
     The trail they took was short, stopping abruptly after the opaque mist vanished out of thin air. The stripling, confusion bounding off of him in waves, was visibly startled. Anger quickly took the place of his dubiety, and he groaned to the heavens in exasperation.  
      **What is the matter, young one?**  
     Concerned that he was losing his mind, the boy wallowed in fear of his sanity and ignored the hushed whispers encircling him.  
      **We are here to help you. Tell us what is wrong.**  
     Alarmed, the juvenile shut his eyes tightly. He dropped to his knees, shaken and distraught. The cool earth did not comfort him.  
    **Please, do not fret. We wish to aid you.**  
     The ringing in his ears only grew louder. He screamed in agony.  
     Then, just as quickly as it had come, all was gone.  
     The boy opened his eyes, salty tears prickling at his eyes. The process of weeping was hindered by the shock of what lay before him:  
      _Dragons._  
     The creatures in front of him were not of a presumable size, like the ones he had read of in fairy tales and fictional books (or rather, seen in movies). They more adequately resembled small, chunky snakes. Except they were blue, and looked as if made of glass.  
     The boy, in amazed wonder, took the few steps required to cross the distance between himself and the dragons. He knelt down before them, extending his hand to pet one of the formidable beasts.  
     A sickening dread overtook him before he was able to touch the dragon. He swiftly took his hand back. An arrow, lodged into the ground, was exactly where his hand had been not even a second before. The boy’s heart raced, his face swooping to find the location of where the arrow had come from.  
     Not far away, he heard an audible thump of feet hitting the ground from a questionable height. His head swivelled in the direction of the sound, eyes being met by a person.  
     Said person was a boy, barely past his own age. His ebony hair lay in a messy bun atop his head. The boy’s only way of appropriately describing other’s attire was cool and ninja-like. His arms carried a drawn bow, rustic eyes never leaving those of the intruder in front of him. His eyebrow were knit together, face shining in disapproval.  
     “Howdy, pardner.”  
     Those two words seemed to be the wrong choice of linguistics, the archer releasing the arrow in his strong grip, and letting it fly towards the other boy’s head. The arrow flew past his face, grazing his hair just barely centimeters shy from his eye.  
     The inviting grin that had embellished the boy’s face was replaced by a scowl. He soon gained courage to speak with the other once again.  
     “Look, archer-boy, sorry ‘bout me wantin’ to pet yer uh… pets back there. I’m mighty lost, and I was wonderin’--”  
     The “archer-boy” looked displeased. He lowered his bow by a fraction. “They are not pets.”  
     “--Whatever they are. I was wonderin’ if you could show me the way outta this amusement park? Oh, I’d ‘preciate some food, too. M’ stomachs grumblin’.” The boy rubbed his stomach in mock starvation.  
     Disbelief prominently playing in his eyes, the archer responded, offended, “I am not a catering service. If you wish to eat, then hunt for your own food.”  
     “Please?”  
     “No.”  
     The boy was not persistent, he knew when to stop. Defeated, he drew back a sigh and responded, “Well, guess I’d better find m’ way out then. Sorry fer botherin’ ya.” As he turned back, he added, ”Name’s Jesse, by the way. I’ll see ya ‘round.” He tipped his non-existent hat in farewell towards the archer before walking away, whistling a tune as he stepped over branches and tripped over tree roots. Boy, was he a mean one, he thought to himself.  
    **That was very rude, Hanzo.**  
      **You mustn't be so harsh. He was only seeking help.**  
     The boy stopped in his tracks. _Were those…?_  
     He turned around, and found the archer, with the miniature dragons flush in his arms. They seemed to be communicating with each other.  
      **He can hear us.**  
     The archer sharply turned his attention towards Jesse, a mixture confusion and disbelief evident in his features.  
      **Come, young one! We have food and shelter to share!** One of the dragons seemed to contort this.  
     Jesse complied, still unsure.  
     When he stood in front of the strange group, the dragons practically jumped into his arms. The archer chuckled, amused. Jesse had trouble handling them, and he was still uneasy at the sight and touch of the beasts.  
     The archer recovered quickly, though. His accustomed stern look returned to his face. “Come, cowboy. I will give you some food.”  
Jesse was beginning to take a liking towards the dragons.

     They traveled to a cave, which the archer claimed to have made a home of. He invited Jesse inside. The cave was spacious, but not intolerably so. Precious knickknacks lined the walls. Most appeared to be scrolls in a different language, an Asian tongue of some kind. The archer began to prepare a small meal for the both of them, in a compact kitchen located at the far end of the cave.  
     “So, I never got yer name…?” Jesse questioned, taking a seat at the foot of a low table.  
     “Hanzo.”  
     “Nice to meet ya, Hanzo.” He adjusted himself onto the cushion.  
     “Not likewise.”  
     Jesse was offended. He feigned hurt in the form of an arrow to the chest. Imaginary, of course.  
     He decided to start friendly conversation after a few moments of silence,“So, how did ya get here?”  
     “I do not know.”  
     Strange. It seemed like they both were dropped in the middle of nowhere. He opted to change the conversation.  
     “Nice home ya got here. Real...homey.”  
     Hanzo said nothing.  
     Jesse tried again. “So, ‘bout yer dragons..”  
     “They are spirit dragons. The have aided my family in times of need. This tattoo,” he rolled up his sleeve, showing an inked arm,”is their symbol. I can summon them whenever I wish. I am also unsure of why it is that you can listen to them.”  
      _Oh._ That silenced Jesse, for now.  
     When the food was prepared, they ate in silence. They enjoyed bowls of steamed rice and miso soup. Jesse had learned that Hanzo was Japanese, explaining his attire.  
     At times, Jesse would try to make small talk, but was promptly refuted by Hanzo. Though, when inquired, Jesse did find out marginally more about the dragons.  
     In the middle of their meal, a voice called out from outside the cave.  
     “H-hello? Is anybody in here?” A timid, feminine voice had called out.  
     “Looks like we got some company.”

     “And that’s how I ended up here.”  
     Amelie’s story baffled Hanzo, while Jesse took it differently. He seemed to view Amelie, the guest who had arrived in the midst of their meal, as a prised medallion. He grinned at her with shining eyes, believing her every word. Even her account of slaying multiple ogres on her way there. And that she had to drink her own urine to stay hydrated.  
     Jesse and Amelie seemed to get along just fine. They had lengthy conversation after lengthy conversation. Soon afterwards, Hanzo excused himself, implying that he had errands to do. It hadn't occurred to Jesse       that there were important things to do in the middle of a jungle, but let it slide anyway.  
     “So, now that we’re alone.” Amelie said in a hushed tone after Hanzo had exited the scene, a slight French accent in her words.  
     Jesse was breathless by Amelie’s beauty. Her smooth, perfect, and pale skin. The way her hazel, almost golden eyes stared at him. He could get lost in them. “Yeah?”  
     They were both leaning in for a kiss.  
     “I was thinking that I could..” Amelie’s eyes flicked to Jesse’s lips.  
     “Yeah?” Jesse repeated, his breath hitched.  
     “KILL YOU.”  
     Amelie’s hands, which had been sliding up Jesse’s chest, now encircled Jesse’s throat. Jesse gagged, asphyxiation nowhere near his mind before that moment.  
    _‘S this how I’m gonna die?_

     From outside, Hanzo’s dragons stirred restlessly in his soul. He couldn’t ignore their unease.  
      **Jesse.**  
      **Jesse is in trouble.**  
     Hanzo ran back inside, taking an arrow from his quiver and drawing his bow back.  
     He didn’t expect to find Amelie strangling Jesse.  
     He also didn’t expect his arrow to pierce her directly through her heart.

     Jesse woke up. His forehead was plastered, slick with sweat. He sat up in his messy bed, the result of his dream. Or was it a nightmare?  
     The surrealness of the dream quickly left him, and he stiffly got up to eat breakfast. He would forget the dream by midday.

 

 

  
     In the wake of his departure, there was a most whimsical thing. A small, blue tail flicked once, twice, underneath the duvet. It purred ominously, disrupted of sound slumber.  
      **Jesse?**

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure where I was going with this at the time, but yeah!!
> 
> If you find any mistakes, please don't be afraid to point them out so I can correct them!
> 
> I hope you liked this!!! And if you did, please leave a kudos or even a comment on how I did!!!
> 
> Thank you for reading~
> 
> <3


End file.
